Vanilla
by LW107
Summary: When Mark tries to force Derek to make up with Meredith after the wedding, he finds a little romantic intrigue of his own. Post Didn't We Almost Have It All. McStizzie and a little MerDer.


Mark Sloan looked sideways as his onetime best friend, watching him take another sip of scotch before slamming down the glass. Mark had come to the Emerald City Bar to do some heavy drinking of his own, maybe even find a hot woman to bed, but instead he'd found a drunken Derek Shepherd drowning his sorrows in a brimming glass of single malt and mumbling about Meredith's rejection at Yang's wedding to Burke.

"I told her that she was the love of my life," Derek told him angrily, repeating his story for the sixth time that night. "I said she was the _love of my_ _life_, and she just walked away. How can a person do something like that?"

Mark sighed as he took a sip of his own drink. "I don't know, Derek," he said honestly as he stared intently at the miserable man next to him, knowing that his monotonous complaining was doing little to improve Derek's unhappiness. He stood up abruptly, reaching into his pocket and removing a wad of cash to throw onto the bar before grabbing Derek's shoulder, pulling him to his feet.

"Hey!" Derek complained at the sudden action, glaring at Mark with irritation.

Mark ignored the glare as he waved goodbye to Joe. "You're coming with me," Mark mumbled vaguely, dragging Derek from the bar in the direction of the parking lot.

"I'm not going to let you drink yourself into a coma just because you're feeling sorry for yourself." Mark scowled at Derek as they climbed into his car. "You've got a good thing with Meredith and I'm not going to watch you ruin it like you did with your marriage to Addison."

Derek scowled at him from the passenger seat, a snort of disbelief escaping his mouth. "Need I remind you that my marriage to Addison ended after I walked in on the two of you two _fucking_ on my favorite flannel sheets?"

Mark glanced at him as he pulled out of the parking lot, seemingly unaffected by Derek's words. "Your marriage was over long before Addison and I got involved, Derek. You know that."

The rest of the drive was ridden in silence except for Derek's grudgingly relayed directions. When they arrived at Meredith's house, Mark pulled into the driveway and shut off the ignition before turning to Derek expectantly.

"What am I supposed to say?" Derek asked quietly, finally breaking the silence.

Mark shrugged his shoulders as he shifted his eyes to the softly lit house. "You tell her that you love her," he said simply. "You tell her you love her and that you won't allow her to throw your relationship away."

Derek turned to look at him in the darkness of the car, surprised by Mark's thoughtful advice. "Okay," he said quietly, nodding his head in agreement as he opened his car door. "But you can't just leave me here. You're responsible for taking me back to Joe's when Meredith kicks me out on my ass."

Mark laughed jovially and opened his own door, and the two men walked together up the front walkway, pausing on the porch while Derek pulled out his keys and inserted the proper one into the lock. When he pushed the door open quietly, the two men walked into the foyer.

"She's probably already upstairs," Derek told him, turning to Mark and narrowing his eyes as he shut the door. "You better wait for me," he warned again, only half joking as he turned on his heel to ascend the stairs.

Mark smiled as his friend disappeared from his view, and he turned to survey the house before him, noting how much homier it felt than his sterile hotel room. His eyes fell to an opened doorway down a short hall, instantly noticing a soft light illuminating from a room and the faint sounds of someone moving around. Curious, he began walking down the hallway.

He entered through the doorway to find Izzie Stevens standing over the kitchen countertop, surrounded by various baked goods as she furiously stirred the contents of a ceramic mixing bowl. Mark smirked as he took in her appearance, noting the wisps of blonde hair that were sloppily escaping her bun and a smudge of chocolate that was smeared on the corner of luscious mouth. On any other woman, Mark would have found such an appearance to be untidy, but the look worked for Izzie Stevens. She looked sexy as hell.

He cleared his throat to gain her attention, watching with amusement as she glanced up quickly, her eyes widening in surprise at finding him standing before her.

"Dr. Sloan," she observed, taken aback by his presence. Her hand unconsciously flew to her head, smoothing down the unruly stands of hair around her cheeks and immediately frowning when they promptly fell back down to frame her face. "What're you doing here?" she asked.

He smiled charmingly as he strolled farther into the kitchen, walking around the countertop to stand next to her. "Just doing a little matchmaking," he told her vaguely.

She looked at him incredulously, furrowing her brow is disbelief. "Matchmaking, huh?"

He chose to ignore her skepticism as he silently surveyed in the various ingredients that littered the counter. "What're you making?" he asked, reaching in front of her to dip his finger into the bowl before bringing the mysterious batter to his lips. "Mmm, that's good," he noted. "What is it?"

Izzie turned back to the bowl in front of her, staring intently at the mixture. "I don't really know," she said slowly. "I bake, you know, when I'm upset. Fatty foods make me feel better," she explained glibly as she began to blend the ingredients once again. "Right now, I'm pretty damn upset, so I just threw in everything that seemed worthy of a heart attack."

"Oh," he said with a laugh. "Well, it's not bad." He watched her face closely as he leaned over to dip his finger into the bowl once again, his hand brushing lightly against her breast. He smiled when he heard her sharp intake of breath, but he masked his satisfaction as he placed his finger in his mouth once again, sucking at the sweet concoction. "You should try adding about a tablespoon of vanilla," he advised after a moment, ignoring the skeptical look that his recommendation caused. "It would make a big difference."

"Are you a closet chef, Dr. Sloan?" Izzie questioned sarcastically as she turned to study his face. He smiled at her sexily, causing her heart to flutter in her chest. She frowned at her response to his attempt at charm, silently reprimanding her absurd reaction. _Get it together, Iz_.

Mark watched with amusement as she silently battled with herself before him, knowing that she was struggling to ignore his flirtation. "No, actually I took a cooking class in New York," he confessed, allowing a smug grin to cover his features when he saw her eyes light up at his admission.

"Really?" she asked, dropping the spoon in the bowl and giving him her full attention. "So you like to cook?"

Mark took another step forward, effectively sandwiching her between his body and the counter, and enjoying the nervousness that became apparent on her features. He felt her nipples harden against his chest as he slipped his knee between her legs, parting them gently. "Not really," he admitted in a low voice, forcing his hands to remain at his sides. "The class was just a great place to pick up women."

His response was so classically Mark Sloan, Izzie couldn't help but roll her eyes. "God, you really are a manwhore," she told him with exasperation, turning back around to face the counter.

Her smooth neck was suddenly inches from his face, and he had to remind himself to ignore the temptation to place his lips over her creamy skin. "Yes, I _am_ aware of that reputation," he admitted lightly, taking a step to the side so that he was standing next to her. "So, what is it that's gotten you so upset tonight, Izzie Stevens?" he asked quietly, eyeing the baked goods on the counter.

His abrupt change of demeanor surprised Izzie, but his new tender concern was a welcomed transformation from his cocky flirtation. She frowned as she pondered over his question. _Oh nothing_, she thought to herself. _You know, just the usual: my adulterous lover/best friend is trying to have a baby with his wife, who now happens to be my boss, and who, if she has her way, will probably play a part in ending my surgical career._ Her frown deepened as she thought about Callie's smug look as she shared the news just before Cristina's almost wedding, her heart aching at the memory.

Pulling herself from her thoughts, she finally turned to Mark, placing her spoon against the counter. "So, what're you _really_ doing here?" she asked him, choosing to ignore Sloan's loaded question.

"I told you," he said, not missing a beat. "I'm playing matchmaker." He watched her boldly as she raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to continue his explanation, and he found himself suddenly compelled to give her what she wanted. "I found Derek at Joe's," he explained, putting his elbow on the counter and leaning against it lazily. "He was wallowing in his misery because Meredith dumped him, and . . . well, I know a good thing when I see it, and Meredith and Derek are good together. They might give each other hell sometimes, but they love each other, and that's rare for people who have our careers. Trust me, I know," he admitted, his eyes darkening as he thought of Addison. "So I dragged him here; I told him they need to work it out."

She watched him with surprise, a small smile forming on her face as he explained his presence in her house. _Maybe there's more to Mark Sloan than I had realized_, she thought. It was a sweet gesture to help Derek through his relationship troubles, a gesture that Izzie would admittedly never have expected from Mark.

She glanced up at the ceiling as she heard familiar sounds emitting from Meredith's bedroom, and she suddenly remembered why she had been enjoying Derek's absence in the house. _Guess I won't be getting any sleep tonight_, she thought, peeking at Mark and seeing that he, too, had noticed the ruckus above them.

"Sounds like your plan worked," she observed wryly as the banging headboard echoed faintly through the ceiling. A small blush appeared on her face, and she shifted her gaze away from him. "They're kind of loud."

He grinned at her discomfort, swiftly taking a step forward to eliminate the space between them. He leaned his head in so that his face was inches from hers, his breath warm against her cheek.

"Yeah, they are," he whispered breathily. "But I bet we could give them a run for their money."

She turned to him sharply, her cheeks flushed. "God! Can't you say _anything_ without the purpose of getting into someone's bed?" she asked disbelievingly, her eyes flashing with impatience. _So much for thinking there's more to Mark Sloan than I originally thought._

He stared at her silently for several moments, a small smile forming as he watched her breaths come out in angry pants. He quickly brought his hand up to frame her face, pulling her to him before she had a chance to protest.

His lips covered the corner of her mouth, sucking lightly at the smudge of chocolate before slipping his tongue through her lips, reveling in delight as she opened her mouth to him. The kiss was brief, just long enough to cause Izzie's heartbeat to increase wildly as her knuckles turned white from gripping the countertop behind her.

He watched with interest as disappointment crossed Izzie's features when he pulled away. He saw her open her eyes in surprise, irritated that he had ended the kiss so abruptly, and even more irritated with herself for being bothered by the absence of his lips.

He smiled at her, a cocky, satisfied smile that caused her heart to skip a beat as he tucked a loose, blonde curl behind her ear. "You know, Dr. Stevens, you're very beautiful when you're angry."

Her mouth fell open as he turned around on his heel and stalked wordlessly out of the kitchen, and she heard the front door open and then shut behind him. She scowled lightly, her eyes narrowed at the empty kitchen doorway. "Seriously?" she whispered, shaking her head.

She sighed as she turned back to the ceramic bowl in front of her, staring at the thick, brown batter. Hesitantly, she reached for the bottle of vanilla in the middle of the counter, adding some to the mixture and blending it in.

When she removed the spoon, tentatively bringing it to her lips to taste, a small smile spread across her face as the thick batter hit her taste buds. "_Seriously_," she whispered in delight, bringing her fingers up to cover her still tingling lips as she grinned.


End file.
